Borderline
by Chinatsu Araki
Summary: Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is a mental health disorder that generates significant emotional instability. This can lead to a variety of other stressful mental and behavioural problems. You may have a severely distorted self image,feel worthless and Fundamentally flawed. Anger, impulsiveness and frequent mood swings may push others away. Daniel Howell, Diagnosis: BPD


**Borderline **

**Chapter one **

"Dan you do understand that I can't help you if you don't let me right?"

The young psychiatrist sighed. Six months Luke had been working with the twenty three year old and still he remained as clueless as he had started out.

Dan was a broken kid and no matter how hard Luke would try, he wasn't confident that that would ever change.

Right now Dan sat in his chair, flexing his fingers impatiently, eyes holding a haunted look that Luke couldn't comprehend.

Why would he if he was still stuck in a limbo with the first ever client that he wished he didn't feel so protective of?

Of course going by natural protocol Luke was forbidden from engaging with a client in a way that exceeded the professional boundaries.

_Well screw natural protocol..._

Even at twenty seven, Luke held quite the fatherly quality to him and always had for as long as he could remember.

He wanted more than anything to take care of the broken boy that sat in front of him now as an older brother would his younger sibling.

"I don't need your pity."

Dan whispered, fists clenching in his lap, tan skin a sharp contrast to his dark clothes.

"Dan I- I'm not pitying you... I just want to help you, so please, help me, help you. Even if I gain a mediocre amount of your trust that's all I need from you to help you move on from where you're at right now. Do you think your parents would want-"

"Shut up."

The command was so cold as it left Dan's lips that Luke physically shivered.

"Dan I-"

"Don't you dare mention my parents. Don't you fucking dare."

"I-I understand I'm sorry."

Dan looked up at the young man tears at the end of his lashes.

"I want to die."

It was said softly at first but soon became increasingly louder to a point where Dan was shouting.

"DO YOU HEAR ME!? I WANT TO FUCKING DIE!"

As soon as Dan's anxiety levels increased and he began to hyperventilate, Luke was kneeling in front of the boy hands on each of Dan's shoulders as he tried his best to coach the young man down from his panic attack.

"Dan," He said softly, "Dan deep breaths...breathe with me. 1, 2, 3, in and out okay?"

Though Dan was reluctant he tried to listen to Luke, hating himself for being so weak.

"That's it Dan, you're okay. Keep breathing like that."

Luke smiled.

Once Dan had gained enough control over his breaths, he sighed and buried his face in his hands.

"Why...am I...still breathing?"

Luke felt his heart breaking and in a bout of unprofessional action, he wrapped his arms around the dark haired boy and pulled him against his chest.

_Like he said, screw natural protocol..._

"The purpose of my being here Dan, is to help you build a life worth living, you know that right?"

Although Dan was shocked at Luke's fatherly contact he found himself relaxing into the psychiatrists embrace.

"Y...you're not...supposed to do...that." He whispered, his voice soft and filled with so much pain and sadness.

"Heh, well, just between you and me Dan I think the best medicine is a hug."

Luke said kindly releasing the young male.

"Dan?" He sat back on his heels. "Please, try and trust me, I promise you won't feel like this forever-"

Like a light switch Dan found his anger rising. He could feel his fists cramping in his lap, his breaths hitching, his heartbeat quickening, and in an bid to maintain his self control, he rose quickly, running from the room, much to Luke's shock.

"Wait Dan-"

However the twenty-three year old was already gone.

The young doctor sank into his desk chair with a defeated sigh and wrote something neatly in Dan's file.

'I promise I'll help you Dan...' he whispered, closing the file and burying his face in his hands.

Could anyone fix the boy's broken soul?

He only prayed someone would.

* * *

><p>It was raining quite heavily as Dan walked home, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black jeans, head down, and shoulders slumped.<p>

At this point he couldn't tell where the rain ended and his own tears began.

There was that continuous burning fire within him, churning and rising to such a high point, that in a fit of losing self-control, the dark eyed boy had drawn his fist back and with full force slammed it against a nearby telephone pole.

He barely felt the pain. He just watched as the blood from his split knuckles was washed away by the rainfall.

He seemed that even though he had attempted to hold back his anger, that just by punching the telephone pole, his emotion had peaked to a point where it actually scared him.

He knew that at this stage of his anger, he would not hesitate to hurt someone, anyone who might look in his direction, and he hated himself for it...

He quickened his strides, reaching the front gate that lead to his house at the end of the block.

As he approached the door, he stopped and sank down to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

_Why..._

_Why..._

_WHY?_

After about fifteen minutes, Dan rose shakily to his feet, unlocking the door and entering the dark hallway, not even bothering to remove his shoes.

His heart ached as he was enveloped in the suffocating silence.

There was no sound.

There was nothing.

Dan wanted nothing more than to return to the time before all of this.

To the time where he'd enter his house and his mother would greet him with a kiss, his father with a 'How was your day son?" and the smells of cooking as his older sister prepared something for dinner.

There was none of that now...

And there never would be again...

That day...

June 11th 2007... his birthday, a day that soon became a nightmare.

* * *

><p><em>They were preparing to board the plane to New York<em>

_It was today, his birthday, that he and his family were travelling from London to America..._

_They never got there._

_They must have been hiding out for a while, unseen by any of the passing staff and passengers._

_So quiet you couldn't even hear them breathing._

_If they had chosen the later flight as they had planned, this would have all been avoided._

_Only they booked the early flight..._

_It happened in a flurry of shouts and swears, soon the gunshots and not long after, the panicked screams as three hundred odd passengers began to run._

"_Dan! You have to get out of here, now!"His mum cried._

"_B-but what about you and dad?"_

"_We'll all meet soon, but just for now, run ahead, be safe!_ _We'll meet at the back okay?"_

Then she let go of his hand and she was lost in the panicked mob...

That was the last Dan saw of her. his dad and his sister

* * *

><p>He leaned heavily against the wall, chest heaving up and down in panicked breaths, palms sweaty and fingers knotted in his hair, the words 'No' being repeated over and over by his lips as the flashback played and replayed itself over in his mind.<p>

He stumbled forward, leaning heavily against the wall in an attempt to keep his balance, sweat slipping down his face, and he approached the bathroom, reaching for a certain item that he kept in the hole in the wall by the taps.

It glinted in the faint light of the window.

He swapped the object to his left hand, and rolled up his thin sleeves of his black sweater, before dragging the object across his already heavily scarred forearm.

The blood immediately pooled from the wound, the blood dripping and staining the ivory sink crimson.

He let out a hiss of pain, but he relaxed...his medicine...pain...

Carelessly wrapping his injured arm, he turned on the tap, washing away the evidence, the blood staining the clear water a soft pink.

Shakily he stumbled towards his bedroom, falling and catching himself on the bedpost.

After he had regained his balance, he flopped on to his bed, and cried...

* * *

><p>"Hey Lester!" An obnoxiously loud voice resulted in an annoyed sigh to escape from the lips of the raven haired man the name belonged to.<p>

"What Joey?"

He muttered tiredly.

"Aww don't be like that. I wanted to ask you a serious question!" The blonde man whined, taking a seat next to his colleague.

"Fine, but it better be worth my time, this paperwork won't do itself..."

Joey snorted, earning a glare from the older man.

"Sorry Phil." He coughed covering up his laughter, "Anyway, my question!"

"Mhm?"

"So...did you fuck PJ around his office or something? Because I've been working with the guy for four years and I only got on night duty three months ago, but you, you managed to get on night duty in two years."

Phil smirked, and teased, "Why Joey, Jealous?"

"Nah, not especially, considering I've already experienced you and your infamous _sexy face_ when we were in senior year of high school, that historical day when you became smitten by my charm."

"Pff , desperate much?"

"Why you little-"

Their banter was pushed abruptly aside and replaced by seriousness as a nurse came running into the room.

"Dr. Graceffa, Dr. Lester, Emergency, main lobby, PJ wants you there now!"

The two males nodded and jumped into action, Joey hanging a stethoscope around his neck, and Phil pushing his arms through the sleeves of his doctor coat as he ran.

"What's the problem?" Joey demanded as they came face to face with three paramedics, PJ, and the patient in question.

"Male, twenty-three, name Daniel Howell, attempted overdose and severe blood loss. Found unconscious by a neighbour. Get him into ICU stat! Dr. Lester, I'm leaving him in your capable hands." PJ said firmly, though his eyes held concern and fear, as they always did when it came to times like this.

"Okay." Phil nodded and approached his charge, freezing when he saw the young man, oxygen mask over a pale face, too pale. dark hair and so much pain in his expression even in his unconscious state.

Daniel Howell was...beautiful...he was beautiful...

In a bid to rid his mind of the inappropriate thoughts, Phil shook his head, and composed himself before yelling orders.

"Increase oxygen flow to twenty-three percent, keep an eye on his pulse. This kid will get out of here alive."

_He would get Dan out of this alive, there was no fucking way he would let him die._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One ^^ Wow! Intense _ *combusts* Please let me know how you think I'm doing! Next chapter Dan's actual overdose, and the one who found him, who do you think it was? ^^ 3<strong>

**-Chinatsu xoxox**

**Keep on loving my llamas 3**


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